The Angels Watching over You
by pbchip
Summary: Set AU before series. Sam is at Stanford. Dean is just out to leave the motel and congratulate himself on a good solo hunt when he is hit by a car and dies in the stupidest way, discovering a new side to the afterlife: the concept of guardian angels, and how people and things change once the tables are flipped. How will Dean ever manage? Slight hints of destiel later on, no nsfw.
1. Chapter 1

It was a normal, ordinary day for Dean Winchester. Which was weird. He was taking a little time off at the moment, and since Sammy was at Stanford and he was congratulating himself on a hunt well done, he figured, well, hey, a little time to himself wouldn't be that bad.

He crossed the street. Man, he should have reinforced the laws of the big mean world that were taught to all children at a young age. He should have checked for cars. But, he was a bit preoccupied and hadn't looked for one time, just one singular time in his life. He should have. Maybe things would be different that way. Luck has its factors when you're a Winchester.

A sudden hit out of nowhere. And then hurt, and pain. Dean feels that first. Sudden, blinding pain in his side, along with all of the oxygen in him going out with an oomph! on his behalf and a gasp for air that could only be compared with that of a fish out of water. '_No no no no no no- dammit!'_ he thinks, trying to pull himself up from his fallen position as the world around him spins. The sky above looks so dreadful and frightening above him. He slumps back down, feeling the weight of his legs giving out and fading. Blinding pain is slowly cascading over him and he vaguely, in the back of his head, begins to reinforce his father's training.

One fractured spine to go, with a side order of four shattered ribs and a punctured lung and oh god he could smell the blood everywhere. Was it just blood? Whose was it? Was it his? Was this the real life? Or was this just fantasy? All these questions just cruelly popping into Dean's face and panicked, shocked mind.

He's vaguely aware of the driver of the car that hit him fretting around. "Oh my god! Are you okay?" It sounds like a lady. A pretty lady. Wow, what an awful way to go. Taunted by the fact that he can't see her face in a fading world. All he can see now is the sky. The red and purple hues of a new day. Or was it a sundown? Or is it all just red? He can't tell anymore.

"Stay with me! I'm calling an ambulance- oh my god!" she says. He catches a glimpse of the taunting face behind the voice. Short hair, strawberry- blonde, a black tank top with a denim jacket, and jeans... If he could see her face. That voice was taunting him. He resigns himself, looking up at the sky. A singular tear runs down his face as he feels his arms giving out and the world comes running down his face. _'I'm so sorry Sammy...'_

He's not giving up that easily though. He's Dean Winchester. One does not simply give up when you're Dean.

He tries to force his now numbly fading body back into existence. '_It wasn't supposed to be this way, Sammy,'_ he thinks. Dean gasps for breath. He has to stay alive, he has to protect Sammy. No no no no no no- he can't go like this! Hit by a car? What sort of lame excuse is that? He was better than this- He was gonna stay awake- he has to be there for Sam- He can faintly hear the sirens of an ambulance and onlookers chattering in horror as he sees a looming darkness everywhere. "You're gonna be okay, I promise!" he hears. It's a faint voice now. " Someone get him inside the-"

He sighed, a last puff of air releasing itself from his body, as a means of final release in a way.

And that was it as the darkness closed in.

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**It gets better. Trust me.**

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	2. Chapter 2: Featherey Asses named Gabriel

_Last chapter we saw Dean dying from a fatal car accident. But what happens after? The story can't end THAT quickly, now, can't it?_

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**CHAPTER TWO.**

When Dean wakes up, he- '_Whoa whoa wait a minute_,' he thinks. '_What the hell's going on here?_'

Well, he starts thinking first. Thinking is a good thing. It can lead to other things, like opening, or at least failing to open, his eyes. He's gonna keep trying to open them though. Winchesters don't give up just like that. Call it a genetic trait of being stubborn and butt-headed.

As one thing leads to another and Dean slowly regains his motor skills, he notices what little space he has in whatever he was confined in. 'What in the name of a flying fuck is going on here?' he thinks, growing more pissed off by the second at his confinement. To make things worse, he has this huge weight on his back, pressing on his spine, and it hurts like HELL now that he's woken up.

It was, though, kinda warm in here. And dark. Like a blanket. Which made it a bit easier to sleep-

'_No!_' he mentally yelled at himself, snapping awake. '_No sleeping! Not till we find out just what's going on!_'

He jerked his head up, and a resounding crack shuddered everywhere. '_What the hell?_' thought Dean, his eyes beginning to open and the light filtering in through some warm colored membrane- hingey. Where was he?

He decides that whatever he did to crack his prison he had better do again if he wanted out of there pronto. So he thrashed out, causing another shudderingly awful crack. He could hear voices around his little dark prison. They sounded vaguely familiar.

'Oh great, the little shit is awake.' came the first voice, taunting but smooth, and a bit muffled. 'Just our luck.'

And then a smack, probably from another thing or person or whatever the hell it was. Dean wanted to know though. 'Don't you dare say that about him!' It exclaimed. The second voice was a woman's, kind but firm. Dean instantly liked that voice better. 'Let him wake up on his own! Shh!" it said.

'_What the ever-loving fuck._' thinks Dean, starting to get a bit agitated. He squirms around and tries to get out of this odd cage because hell, his back hurts a lot and he'd like that problem fixed.

'Damn. Should we help him out?' says the first familiar voice, earning whoever it was a rightful smack to the head. 'No. We aren't allowed to. I think Dean is strong enough to get out on his own.' Dean was definitely liking the second voice better.

But, on to more pressing matters, his entire back hurts and he wants OUT. Because the small space that he is curled up in is beginning to make him claustrophobic and he does certainly NOT want to start panicking because rule one that dad taught was: Don't panic, and get everyone out alive.

So he was gonna get out alive and find out whatever the hell was weighing down his back.

With a huge push Dean finally breaks free of whatever slimy film was holding him in as he wipes bits of..shell?...off of himself.

"What the hell?" he exclaims as he looks behind him to see this huge ass set of sandy brown...wings?

"Dear, I think you mean what the Heaven." He turns to see who's talking, and lo and behold, it's his own mother, standing next to a trickster that he and Bobby had encountered only once before.

"M-mom?" Dean stutters out, at a complete loss of words for what is going on. "Am- am I dead?"

Mary Winchester just gives a sigh. "Yes dearest, you died. I'm sorry if that upsets you."

He turns to face the Trickster, after giving his Mom a good long look. "What the hell is he doing here?" he questions as he eyes the person in question.

"Sorry to spoil your day, bucko, but I'm not really a trickster. It was all a ruse." The not-so-trickster says as he waves his way through hand motions.

"What are you, then?" Dean angrily spouts.

"An angel, to be precise. Gabriel the Archangel, here to see your little ass make it's way off."

"But angels don't exist." Dean sputters.

"Take a look behind you again, squirt, and tell me angels don't exist again." snaps Gabriel. "Anyways, just because I'm soooo nice, I've come to help you get your shit together and fly off into the sunset." Dean takes another look at the wings behind himself. Sure- they were huge, but they were cool. They even matched the color of his hair, to an extent.

Mary reaches over and slaps Gabriel on the back of the head. "Be nice." She turns to face Dean. "Sweetie, just know that we're here to help you from here on out, okay?"

"Okay." Dean answers.

"First, let's get you cleaned up, alright?" Mary muses. "Gabriel, if you will?"

"Fine." grumbles the slightly pissed archangel as he rubs the back of his head where Mary slapped him. He snaps his fingers, and Dean is suddenly all cleaned up and wearing a black Metallica t-shirt and jeans, which are clothes Dean didn't even realize that he didn't have on when he first came out of the egg thing. His wings even have holes that come out the back ever so nicely.

"How's that?" Gabriel asks in a grumpy tone.

"Much better. Thanks, I guess." Dean half- grumbles back.

"Ok. Now that you're all preened and pretty, do you want the basic rundown of the whole shizam here?" quirks the brown-eyed archangel.

Dean nods a simple 'yes'.

"Okay then, let's get started." Gabriel states with a wicked grin on his face.

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**Thanks for reading! See you next chapter!**


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